Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha; this is only a fanfic.

Authors Notes: I would like to take this opportunity to, again, forewarn my sensitive readers. If you are opposed to lemons, venture no further. It is not my intention to offend anyone; remember this story is rated - M.

I am personally glad this is chapter was previously written as real life issues have curbed my motivation. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews, support, and special thanks to my anon. reviewers: lili and sangofan89.

Warning: Lemon Content

Volume II

Sode fure-au mo tasho no en

(As our sleeves brush together, it is our karma)

Chapter 24: Open Arms

Miroku watched as Sango performed the family's nightly ritual. His wife was still ignoring him. Any question or comment he made was met with a clipped response. He sat silently and watched her prepare the children's bath and lay out their futons.

Why was she upset with him? Had he not gone with Mayura today, he would not have known of the danger they were in. The last thing he had needed was Hajime to find out about Sango and the children. Who knew how far his treachery went, that was why he was sending them away.

"Houshi-sama!"

The monk's head lifted at his wife's summons.

"The children would like to say 'good-night' to you," Sango said abruptly.

"Of course," he said, rising to his feet. He felt a strange sort of excitement; it was his first time putting his children to bed. To be honest, he had felt left out as Sango went through the routine.

Entering the room lightened his mood. Suiren sat with her legs folded and Shun'ei leaned back on his elbows, waiting for him. As he entered, Sango turned to leave.

"Are you going to sit with us?" the monk asked of his wife.

"No." Sango's reply was brusque. "I need to prepare your bath, Houshi-sama. It's been a long and eventful day," she said meaningfully.

"Sango…"

"Your children await you," she interrupted him and left the room.

Miroku watched her go with sad eyes. This is not what he expected; he had planned to have a nice quiet evening with her. She might not have been quite ready to resume the physical aspect of their relationship, but he at least wanted to attempt a gentle nudge in that direction.

Turning back to the children, he smiled as Suiren scooted over and patted the area next to her. Taking the seat she offered, he saw that Shun'ei had turned on his side facing them.

"This is new to me, therefore, you two will have to help me out. What does one do to… ah… tuck you in?"

"Well… mother gives us lots of treats and piggy back rides before bed," Suiren chipped in, smiling unabashedly at her fabrication.

"Are you telling tales, Suire-chan?" her father asked, but smiled back. His daughter seemed to have inherited his traits.

"Of course." The child did not bat an eye. "Haha-ue said you wouldn't believe it anyway, but I wanted to see if you were as smart as she said you were."

That made him feel better; Sango had told his children he was smart.

"You must read a lot," Shun'ei said sitting up. "You use a lot of words I've never heard before. Are you a scholar, chichi-ue?"

"It was a requirement with my training and my father insisted," Miroku told them.

"Are we going to grandfather's temple tomorrow?" Suiren asked.

"No." Miroku said sadly. "My real father is no longer with us, but you will be meeting the next best thing; my foster father and mentor, Mushin."

The twins fired questions at him and he answered readily, embracing their interest and enthusiasm. He found his children quick-witted and naturally bright and he looked forward to teaching them all they could absorb.

Feeling his daughter slouch beside him, Miroku gently laid her back on the futon and pulled the covers over her. "Don't forget my kiss, chichi-ue," the child said sleepily.

"As if I would," he chuckled. Leaning down, he pressed a light kiss to her forehead. "Good-night, aijou," he whispered and pulled away.

"She's not mad at you." The child rolled over and fell instantly asleep.

Miroku could only stare at his daughter. He wanted to ask how she knew, but the child was in the land of slumber and he would not disturb her. Turning to his son, he smiled and asked, "I guess it's your turn now."

"Uh… can we skip the kissing part?" Shun'ei sensed his father's disappointment. He had spoken too quickly and tried to make amends. Getting to his knees, he placed his hands on top of Miroku's and looked into his eyes. "I am proud to call you, father. Good-night, sir," he said and bowed low.

Shun'ei felt his father reach over and tousle his hair. "I'm the one proud, Shun'ei," Miroku said sincerely. "I have truly been blessed. Good-night, my son."

The monk lifted the covers and his son slid under them. Before he could get up, Shun'ei grabbed his hand. "She's not mad with you," the boy reiterated his sister. "When mother is mad she usually grinds her teeth or she talks to herself and no one else. If she were really mad, trust me, she would not prepare your bath; you would have to do it yourself."

"Thank you," Miroku said, shaking his head in wonder. "Now get some sleep."

The boy turned over and his father left the room with a smile on his lips. So… she was not mad with him, maybe she was nervous. He would soon remedy that, he thought with determination.

"Houshi-sama!" Sango called from outside. "Your bath is ready. Test the water!"

He had wooed her before and he would do so again. There was still enough of the old Miroku left in him. Look out Sango; prepare to be swept off your feet.

xXxXx

The monk did not know how right he was, his wife was indeed nervous. Sango sat chewing a thumbnail as she stoked the fires under the bath. She did not know the first thing about enticing her husband's attentions. The closer the time for commencement, the more nervous she became.

Since childhood, she had never had time to bother with the feminine attributes; she was too busy training with her father. Her mother had taught her to dance and had said she had a natural grace; however, Sango had incorporated that into her taijiya skills to become a better fighter.

"Sango, dear, you are hopeless," her mother used to tease. Although she lacked the normal training of the other girls, it was never demanded of her. It was not until Kohaku was born and their mothers passing that Sango was forced to learn more womanly skills.

To maintain the household, take care of her father and Kohaku, Sango had to retrain herself. There was now laundry to do, cleaning and taking care of a newborn. Thank goodness, her father was able to cook; the first few months were disastrous for Sango preparing a meal. However, with the help of the women of their village, the taijiya finally learned.

At the age when boys began paying her attention, Sango was too absorbed in her trade to notice. Because of this, many of the young men were forced to turn their attentions elsewhere. Sango's father became aware of the diminishing suitors and questioned his daughter.

"Do you have plans to marry, Sango?" her father had asked bluntly.

"Well… yeah, I guess. Why do you ask, father?" she had replied.

The senior taijiya had been stunned at his daughter's answer. She was clueless to the number of suitors she had lost. Sango was strong, level headed and responsible he thought; she would know when it was time and whom to choose. Deciding to leave matters alone he had simply said, "Never mind, dear."

Back then, who would have known she would have chosen someone like Miroku to give her heart. Although her memory had not fully returned, Sango remembered quite a bit of their rocky courtship. She also believed that had she made her feelings for him clear, maybe they would have had more time to be together.

With Miroku's enlightenment of the past, Sango recalled memories of her husband's imminent death and the 'Kazaana'. She remembered it was the reason he had withheld his feelings for her. She was also guilty of the same, albeit for different reasons.

She had fought her attraction for him, fought her burgeoning feelings. She did not feel attractive enough to be anything other than a passing fancy for him. She knew now how wrong she was and she remembered Mayura's words.

"The man has not seen his wife in years and yet he waits, instead of claiming his husbandly rights."

The monk had waited; other than soothing words and gentle caresses, he had not pressured her.

"Rest, anata, we have all the time in the world."

Her husband had whispered that their first night together. However, who was to say they had time? Sango knew from the past tragedies in her life that no one was promised tomorrow.

She would not hold back this time, she would not mask her feelings. With a look of determination, it was time to say good-bye to the timid Sango of old. Beware, Houshi-sama; prepare to be conquered.

xXxXx

Miroku eased into the heated water. It felt good to have a decent bath after traveling so many days on the road. He leaned back, allowing the steam to relax him.

The monk heard her footsteps before Sango opened the shoji. He watched her step through the entrance carrying towels and an extra light. Placing the items on the floor, she turned to leave.

"Sango…" Miroku began with a charming smile, "There is no need for the extra light; this is sufficient." His wife looked puzzled. "I find the duskiness soothing."

"Oh… of course." The taijiya turned and snuffed the fuse casting the room, once again, in an ethereal glow. Rising to her feet, she again moved to exit the room.

"You have yet to have your bath, anata," Miroku said huskily. "There is enough room for two; I am most willing to share." That stopped her, but she did not turn around, he noticed. "It will save you refilling the tub and heating more water," he said convincingly.

Sango looked back, blushed, but then stepped through the door and closed the shoji with a snap.

Sighing heavily, Miroku slid down into the water. That did not go well. However, he would not be deterred; it was time for phase two.

xXxXx

Outside, Sango leaned against the wall trying to still her beating heart. Her husband's offer had projected the most sensuous images of a time before and she chastised herself.

"You're a fool, Sango!"

The taijiya moved down the hall and entered her room.

"He is your husband; are you ashamed of your desire for him?"

She was not ashamed, but neither was she promiscuous. She could not flirt let alone attempt to seduce him. She was losing her nerve.

"You're such a prude!"

Sango shook her head. She wasn't, she just wanted…

"He made it easy for you. He offered; all you needed to do was accept."

He had offered. She remembered looking back into his dark eyes, the curve of his lips and hearing the enticing plea in his voice.

"What the hell are you waiting for?"

Mayura's voice lashed out.

What was she waiting for? She could not think of a single reason. They loved each other and that was all that mattered.

Picking up a fresh set of towels, Sango headed back to the bath.

xXxXx

He did not hear her arrival this time. He opened his eyes slowly and saw her through the rising steam. She placed her towels beside his and began piling her hair on top her head.

Miroku sat up. With her back to him, he watched as she untied the obi from her waist and his body tingled with anticipation. The sash spiraled to the floor and the monk saw her hesitate as she held the lapels of her robe together.

He desired her, Sango reminded herself. He already knew the imperfections of her body and had never been dissuaded. Taking a deep breath, she turned to face him. Slowly peeling the robe from her body, she allowed it to slide gracefully to the floor and pool at her feet.

Inching forward, Miroku's eyes roamed over her. Lifting his arm from the water, he extended his hand. "Come, my love," he asked huskily. "Come to me."

His voice alone caused a stirring in the pit of her stomach and it induced her to move. Her eyes held his as her bare feet stepped to the edge where he awaited her. The monk had placed both hands on the side of the tub. She saw him push back, allowing her enough room to enter between his body and the wall.

Watching one dainty foot enter the water, Miroku could not restrain himself. His hand reached out, caressed a trim ankle, and moved upwards. Her other leg, he kissed the bent knee as she descended and his other hand moved up her thigh. Sango's legs were now submerged and Miroku's hands traveled up the back of her thighs, cupping her buttocks.

Sango heard him moan as he pulled her from the wall and into the middle of the water. The material from his gloved hand caused friction against her soft skin. Instinctively, she grabbed onto his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his torso to maintain her balance. His faced was pressed against her belly; she felt his tongue slide from her navel, as he lowered her, move up her stomach, between the valley of her breast and into the crook of her neck.

"Houshi-sama!" she inhaled in delight. Sensations racked her body as his lips found the delicate shell of her ear.

"Beautiful," he whispered and she felt it with every fiber of her being. Suddenly, he released her.

This startled Sango, until his arm snaked around her waist and turned her in the opposite direction.

Reclining back in the tub, Miroku pulled Sango down beside him. "Tell me, Sango," he began. "How have you lived your life the last few years? How have you been able to maintain this house?"

"You want to discuss this now?" Sango sounded shocked, leaned against his chest, and looked back at him.

"Indulge me, my sweet," he whispered, before nipping an earlobe.

"On one condition," she said huskily and turned on her side to face him.

"And… that is?" he asked, as his hand dipped under the water and caressed a silken thigh.

Sango's breathing became labored and she squirmed at his touch. "Just keep doing that," she purred.

"It will be my pleasure."

xXxXx

Nari had cleansed Mayura's wounds and was now bandaging them. She had applied some cold packs to her future mother-in-laws chest and bound them as well.

"That should decrease the swelling, Lady Mayura.," the young woman informed her. "That man is an animal!" she said vehemently, more to herself than the victim.

"How long has he known?" Mayura whispered as the shock began to wear off.

"I'm sorry," Nari said, not understanding.

"Akio… how long has he known that I… that I am his mother?"

"He's known for quite some time, since the age of twelve I believe," she informed the courtesan. "After Rie-sama told him about you, it was the reason they traveled north… to find you."

"He… he wanted to look for me," Mayura said incredulous. "But… why? He knows what I am; he knows that his mother is…" Her body began to tremble. "Oh, Kami! How could he bear to look at me!" she wailed.

The impact of Nari's slap snapped Mayura's head around. Holding her cheek, she slowly turned back and stared wide-eyed at the young woman.

"I'm sorry, Lady Mayura, but hysterics won't do," Nari said calmly. "I promised Akio to take care of you. I will not have him return to find you in such a state."

"Now… if you are calm, I will tell you what I know." Settling beside her future mother-in-law, she continued. "Rie-sama told Akio about you because he wanted to know who his mother was. He had learned many things of his father, but never of you."

"Once she told him, he demanded to find you. He threatened his grandmother, told her he would run away if she did not help him. Rie-sama was against it, but she did not want to lose her grandson. Akio was all she had left of her son, Takashi."

"Rie-sama put out word to her shinobi contacts to locate your whereabouts and report back to her. Once you were found, Akio wanted to see you. He told me that he refused to train, to behave and did everything he could to make Rie-sama miserable until she agreed."

"Before they arrived here, Rie-sama and Akio received a message that you would soon be leaving this village and they hastened to get here. But… they were delayed," Nari continued. "They had picked up an extra passenger on the way, one that was injured."

"Sango.." Mayura whispered.

"Yes," Nari confirmed. "The shinobi had implanted one of their own here in the village, a person designed to maintain watch over you as well as keep you here until they arrived. That same person has watched you ever since and alerted us to your danger tonight."

Mayura frowned. "Who could that possibly…" then she gasped. "Fujiko!"

"Right again," Nari said with a smile. "When they finally made it here, Rie made her presence known right away and through her, you knew Akio was your son."

"I had only seen her once," Mayura said remembering the past. "It was the day she came to the monastery. I refused to raise my son in a brothel, so I gave him up."

"When Rie showed up," Mayura continued. "I told the convent sisters the woman was too old to adopt my son, but they assured me he would be cared for and that the old woman was capable. Just the thought of handing him to some stranger and never seeing him again…" She paused to hold back tears. " I died that day," she whispered to herself. "Who knew I was handing him over to his 'own' grandmother?"

"Akio was unsure of how to meet you… of how to present himself to you," said Nari. "He spent three years trying to find a way. The night Sango saved you from those ruffians was his opening. It was through her that he had his first contact with you."

"So you see, Lady Mayura," the young woman continued. "Akio does not care what you are or what you have done. To him, you are his mother, he loves you and that's all that matters. You and Rie are the only family he has left."

"And… you too, of course," Mayura looked expectantly, "Nari; is it?" The young woman nodded and blushed. "Do you love my son, Nari?"

"Oh… yes!" She gushed prettily.

"Good," Mayura said. "Now… can I have another cold compress, please?"

"Those should not be warm yet." Nari reached to check the bindings at Mayura's breast.

"No, dear," the older woman said. "I need one for my cheek."

"Oh!" Nari jumped up and ran for another compress.

"I can't believe I called her a country mouse," Mayura muttered under her breath.

xXxXx

Sango told him everything as they lay side by side in the bath. From her first meeting with Rie and Akio, how they cared for her injuries and allowed her to travel with them. She told him how her unforeseen pregnancy delayed their travel and of the twins birth. She told him of her first serving job when Rie opened the teahouse.

"Uh-oh," Miroku chuckled. "I'll bet that was a disaster."

"I'll have you know I was a great tea server." Sango flicked water at her husband, trying to sound offended.

The monk looked skeptical as he captured her hand, bringing it to his lips. "I could always ask Rie," he said meaningfully, as he pressed a kiss to her palm.

"Oh… all right," the taijiya sighed. "I was rather bad, but I tried."

Miroku chuckled more at her answer. Sango slapped the top of the water with the same palm he just kissed, dousing him thoroughly.

Wiping the water from his face, Miroku noticed Sango had worked her way to the other side of the tub. "The great Sango-sensei retreating?" The monk moved slowly forward, stalking her.

"I'm not retreating," the taijiya said with a toss of her head. "It's just… well, the waters cold, that's all."

"I know," Miroku said. He smiled as his gaze lingered on her breast. "I like the results."

"Argh! You are such a pervert!" Sango growled and splashed him again.

Miroku heard her tinkling laugh and her climbing out of the tub. Brushing hair and water out of his eyes, he saw her wrap herself in a towel. Hoisting himself from the other side, he had just enough time to grab his own towel, before Sango flew from the bath and down the hall.

Following in hot pursuit, the monk caught her just as she reached the entrance to her room. Spinning her around, he pressed her hard against him and backed her over the threshold. Reaching behind, he closed the shoji.

"My, my," Miroku's voice was low and seductive. "Frisky as a kitten; are we?" he said. Reaching up, he pulled the combs from her hair allowing the silken strands to tumble around her. "What am I to do with you, my beautiful wife?"

"What would you like to do?" she challenged. Sango's hands moved sensuously over her husband's body. He was just as she remembered; the smooth broad chest, muscled forearms and ribbed, flat stomach. Sliding her hands up his chest, she took a moment to caress the gold rings at his ears. Arching into him, her fingers slid into his hair.

Sango decided she liked flirting with him; it was fun and relaxing. It chased away her inhibitions and she was more responsive to his attentions. However, as he held her, the taijiya felt a change in his demeanor. Looking up into his eyes, she saw they had darkened with passion and the intensity left her breathless.

"I've missed you," he said so softly she strained to hear. He lifted a finger, brushed it enticingly across her bangs, down her temple and tucked a wayward strand behind her ear. "Are you comfortable with me now, Sango?"

His hands were creating havoc to her senses, his hands slid down her throat, across her collarbone to the top of the towel above her breast. The taijiya made to speak, but found she could not. The monk smiled tenderly down on her and the best she could do was nod her head.

"I'm glad," he said. Blue eyes surveyed brown as his hand moved to the knot that held the towel together. With a gentle tug, it slithered from her body, but his eyes never wavered from hers as he lowered his mouth.

The kiss was sensuous and sweet, he lightly probed until he felt her response. His wife parted her lips in invitation and tentatively initiated the use of her tongue. With a violent shudder Miroku reached out and cupped the back of her head, the other hand skimmed her waist and moved up to cup her breast.

Heated moans erupted from her throat and her husband swallowed them. She found herself arching into his hands demanding more. Although he roamed her body freely, she noticed he steered clear of the sensitive areas.

Sango felt giddy as he lowered her to the futon. When had they got there; she wondered. She felt the softness of the mat at her back as Miroku slid smoothly down beside her.

"Touch me, Sango," he breathed against her ear and then captured her mouth in another series of succulent kisses.

Her small hands followed the same path as his did on her body. They roamed over the hard planes of his chest, skimming down his lower torso and across his abdomen. Unknotting the towel at his waist, her hand timidly moved lower.

Miroku felt her hand touch him intimately just as his found her warm center. They both caressed and stroked each other until they were breathless yet wanting more.

"Oh, aisai!" Miroku inhaled sharply and pulled his mouth from hers. "You ignite a fire within me."

Sango opened passion filled eyes. "Am I… am I really able to do that?" she whispered in wonder.

"Yes, my love… yes!" His lips found the pulse beating rapidly at her throat.

She wanted to tell him how he made her feel, however, it was not easy for her. He was the one with the gift of words; he knew how to express himself; his deliverance was always appropriate and his timing impeccable. How could 'she' possible tell him what she wanted… what she needed?

Suddenly, in one swift movement, Miroku found himself flat on his back with his wife straddling him. Surprise held him still as she breathed heavily above him. Her hands were balled into fist on his chest, her hair flew wildly around her body and her eyes bored into his. Miroku waited.

Sango was just as surprised at her boldness. However, looking down on him; what did she do now? Words were locked in her throat and feelings of doubt crept up her spine.

The monk saw the uncertainty enter her eyes and came to her aid. Sliding his hands up each side of her thighs, he reawakened the sensations from moments ago.

"Don't be afraid, Sango," he whispered and thrust upward gently. "Allow your feelings to lead. You don't need to say a word, let your body speak to me."

Overwhelmed with love for the man beneath her, Sango loomed over him. Her hair fell like a curtain around them as she leaned forward to kiss him passionately. After many years apart, he still knew her so well.

Spanning her waist with his hands, Miroku guided her over him. His body jerked in response as she slid down the length of him. They both inhaled sharply and neither moved as they allowed their bodies to adjust.

Sango broke their kiss. With a whimper, she reared back as heat pooled from the core of her center and spread throughout her body. Instinctively, her body began move; almost of its own volition. Her undulating movements were slow and steady and she closed her eyes, savoring the sensations that ascended her to paradise.

His wife was magnificent. Miroku enjoyed watching her head thrown back in wild abandon, her lips pursed in pleasure and her hands caressing him incessantly, but he fought to maintain control. He needed something also, something only she could give.

The tension built between them. Sango's breathing became ragged and her gyrating tempo increased. Gritting his teeth, Miroku tried bracing his body, but could not hold back any longer, he only wished…

"Miroku!" Sango cried as she crested an erotic wave.

His body responded instantly. His name pouring from her lips had him arching back as the fire he spoke of earlier consumed him. Pushing up to meet her downward thrust, the hands at her waist held her still a moment before he withdrew and thrust again.

"Miroku-kun," she cried out again, "please…"

He knew what she was asking for… a harmonious release. Fulfilling her wish, he slid his hands from her waist, up her ribcage to the lush fullness of her breast. Closing his fingers over them, he massaged and kneaded the mounds before turning his attentions to the taut peaks. Lifting his upper torso, his lips captured one nascent tip and suckled gently.

The taijiya moaned her pleasure. Matching his pace, their bodies rocked and swayed as one entity. Sango grasped his shoulders as her muscles tightened around him. Her form shuddered and with a muffled cry, she reached her pinnacle.

Miroku crushed her to him as he responded to his wife's rhythmic fruition. A strangled grunt escaped his throat as her frenzied shivers triggered his spasmodic release. Spiraling back to earth, his wife collapsed on top of him, tumbling their spent bodies back to the futon. They stayed that way, melded together, as their breathing returned to normal.

"Sango…" Miroku whispered and rolled her over until they lay on their side facing each other. Brushing back the tousled mane of her hair, he tilted her face up and kissed her gently.

"That was incredible," he breathed and looked into her eyes. "I've dreamed of holding you like this… almost every night for seven years. I'm not dreaming now; am I?"

"No…" Sango cupped his face in her hands. "Both of us have dreamed enough; this is real."

"Is it?" The monk's mischievous glint returned. "Should I pinch you just to make sure?"

"I wouldn't try it," Sango admonished him with a glint of her own. "However, husband, I am sure there are other ways to test that theory." Having said this, she ran a dainty foot up his calves to his knee and felt him shiver in awareness.

Inhaling sharply, Miroku pulled her close to him. "I yield to your gentle touch, my wife; you are very real indeed." Looking into her eyes, the smile left his face as he asked, "Sango… it may be too soon, but…"

She saw his eyes turn dark with desire and his body respond to their closeness. The taijiya placed a finger to her husband's lips to silence him. "Don't say a word," she whispered as he leaned over her. "Just let your body speak to me."

xXxXx

The moon shone full and bright as Sango stretched languidly and sought the warmth of the body next to hers, but Miroku was gone. Pushing up on her side, she looked around the empty room as she reached for her robe.

Covering herself and tying the sash, she left the room in search of her husband. She walked to the main room, returned to the bath and checked the engawa, but it was not there.

As she passed through the opening of the children's room, her waist was captured in a strong hold and she was pulled back into her husband's embrace. He stood inside, leaning against the wall observing his children as they slept.

"They are beautiful, Sango, thank you," he said close to her ear.

Sango could only blush and looked over at the twins. Suiren had pulled her futon close to her brothers; both laid on their side, facing each other and it appeared they were holding hands. However, Sango knew it was their pinky fingers that were locked together.

"Do they often join hands while sleeping?" Miroku asked.

"Not their hands," Sango said. "They link their smallest fingers together and have done so almost since they were infants. I believe it's their way of comforting each other."

Both parents stood in the doorway observing their offspring. Miroku held Sango in front of him, his arms around her waist with his chin nuzzled in the crook of her neck. The taiiya relaxed against him, enjoying the warmth at her back.

"Your… our… daughter has inherited your incredible eyes," Sango whispered shyly.

"It seems she has inherited a bit more than that," he chuckled.

"Oh… yes," Sango turned in her husband's arms. "I used to wonder how she could spin a tale with such conviction and a straight face; now I know." The taijiya shot him a glare.

"Well… it has its uses," Miroku defended. "We will simply have to teach her that… well, that…; never mind." The monk became flustered as Sango's scowl deepened. "Shun'ei is the mirror image of you," Miroku said, changing the subject and looked over at his son.

"Really?" Sango asked. "I think he favors Kohaku, except that he's very intense. My little brother was fun loving growing up; I was the serious one."

"I believe my… our son has had a lot of responsibility until now, I plan to share that with him as well as teach him to enjoy life."

"Like you taught me," Sango whispered and stepped into his arms. "There is no better sensei than you, my love. Shun'ei has already shown progress under your astute tutelage; you did a good job getting him to open up to you."

"I have had plenty of practice with his mother," Miroku smiled down on her. "Speaking of practice…" The monk left the rest unsaid as his hand toyed with the tie on her robe as he gazed deep into her eyes.

Sango knew what that look meant and her body reacted immediately to his silent invitation. She found her herself leaning towards him, her palms slid over the lapels of his robe. "Practice makes perfect, hmmm…," she said, moving in close.

Placing a hand at the small of her back, her husband gently steered her from the room. "Not only that, my sweet wife," Miroku said seductively. The gloved hand bearing the 'Kazaana' moved lower and brushed enticingly across her backside. "Practice also 'enhances' what's already perfect."

To be continued…

Living without you

Living alone

This empty house seems so cold

Wanting to hold you

Wanting you near

How much I wanted you home

But now that you've come back

Turned night into day

I need you to stay

Lyrics to: Open Arms – Journey

Sung by: Steve Perry

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